


Book Smarts

by funeralbeldam



Series: Unexpected Love [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, soulmate tattoo au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:47:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29407149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/funeralbeldam/pseuds/funeralbeldam
Summary: Re-upload from my old, deleted, account.Ron and Hermione's journeys to finding their soulmates.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Series: Unexpected Love [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2160279
Kudos: 11





	1. The Unfortunate Boy

Ronald was an unfortunate boy. He was, unfortunately, the youngest of 6 boys - this resulted in him being picked on the most, especially by his twin brothers. He, unfortunately, had a lot of expectations on him.  
'Be as smart as your brothers, be as strong as your brothers - live up to their legacy!'  
Unfortunately, Ron was also a clumsy boy - often stumbling into things, or knocking them over. And every time he used magic, it wouldn't work properly or something would end up breaking.

And to top it off, Ron got his tattoo late.  
It was always faintly there - but never distinct enough to see what it was. Until he turned 13 and woke up one morning to find he no longer had faint white markings on his inner wrist.  
Instead, there was an obvious black tattoo, in the shape of a book.

"How bloody ironic." The teen groaned, pulling the covers back over his head - hoping he could just ignore the world and no one would have to know that he, Ronald Weasley - who was struggling with schoolwork and magic - clearly had an academic and smart soulmate.

After being yelled for multiple times, Ron finally got out of bed. Deliberately choosing a long sleeved jumper to cover up the tattoo, he made his way down the long winding stairs of his house.  
Unfortunately, his choice in outerwear didn't go unnoticed by Fred or George.

"Why the long sleeves, bro?"  
"Got something to hide?"  
"Has your tattoo finally made an appearance? Oh it has, hasn't it - I can tell by your face."  
"Why are you hiding it, Ron? It's rude isn't it?! You've got a rude tattoo!"  
"Let's see it then!"

He was then being wrestled to the ground by the twins, who were desperately trying to pull his sleeve up.  
Much yelling and some punching later, Ron was pinned to the floor by Fred and had his sleeve pulled up by George.

"Merlin's beard! Ron's got a book - his soulmate's clever!"  
The twins started laughing and pinching his cheeks, much to his dismay.

"Alright, alright - get off your brother! Let him up." Molly flapped her hands at the twins - brushing down Ron's jumper once he was up.  
Ears red, he angrily tugged his sleeve back over the infernal book, only to have his mother's hand gently take hold of his wrist - the other patting his cheek.  
"I think it's a wonderful tattoo, darling. You'll be happy with your soulmate - don't you worry."  
Forcing a smile, and a muttered 'thanks mum', Ron made his way into the garden. He waited until Molly's face disappeared from the kitchen window before he wiped the cheek that she'd kissed.

Finally alone, he took the chance to look at the tattoo again. This time he didn't feel dread and slight shame. This time, he felt kind of anxious but in a good way.  
He was excited to know who she was.  
He was anxious to find out what he was represented by on his soulmate.

He only hoped it wasn't a dunce cap.


	2. The Proof

Hermione was a clever girl. A very clever girl.  
She was one of those girls that was not only clever, but blessed with the ability to learn things quickly. She had a fantastic memory, and enjoyed spending her time filling her brain with more information. The way she achieved this was through reading.  
Reading fiction, non-fiction - anything she could get her hands on, she'd read.

It didn't come as much of a surprise to the 11 year old when she received her Hogwarts acceptance letter. Magic and fantasy had always been her favourite fiction genre - she adored the idea of magic, and had always wished for it be real. After reading Matilda, the child had tried to levitate things around her house for some time. It eventually worked after a couple weeks of trying.  
While her parents were rather confused and, frankly, a bit frightened by the realisation that magic existed, and their daughter was a witch - they were supportive.

So, the summer before she was to go to Hogwarts, Hermione's parents had bought all of her school supplies and every book they could afford.  
All of her time was spent reading up on magic and her new school. She was excited and didn't want to let anyone down by not knowing anything. She was a witch, and a muggleborn - her books made it clear to her that her kind wasn't always the most accepted.  
This only made her more determined to learn. The pureblood (and some half-blood) kids had had eleven years of magical life to teach them - Hermione had a summer.  
She wasn't going to be left out.

This was how she discovered that soulmates were common amongst witches and wizards. Suddenly the strange birthmark on her hip made sense. It wasn't a birthmark at all! Just a tattoo that was waiting to reveal itself.  
She was a little frustrated that hers wasn't clear by now - she was the right age for it, and being muggleborn already set her further behind the others - but the girl had to remind herself that the books had said it was normal for the tattoos to take time to become clear.

___________________________________

What Hermione hadn't expected, was to be so widely disliked. Even by the other muggleborn students in her year.  
Sure, she hadn't been the most popular girl in her Muggle primary school - but she'd always thought it was because of the way she looked.  
Perhaps that was only a contributing factor...  
Here people said she was annoying - even their potions professor seemed to be irritated with her. (Then again, he was irritated whether you knew the answer or not, so maybe he just hated kids.)  
She pretended not to hear the things they whispered about her.  
'Ugly' 'Annoying' 'Know-It-All' 'Goody Two Shoes'.  
Education was the most important thing, and she couldn't help it if she wanted to know all she could and share what she knew! That was how she was...  
Even the famous Harry Potter wasn't that friendly... He tried, to be nice to her, but he didn't go out of his way to talk to her or sit with her either. His ginger friend was more important to him than Hermione, or schoolwork it seemed.

Ron didn't even try to hide that he didn't want her around, but she still tried. They seemed like one of the few nice people at Hogwarts - even if they weren't the nicest to her.  
She didn't know why she cared so much, or why it hurt as badly as it did when Ron was calling her annoying and saying he understood why no one was her friend. All she knew was it felt like someone had just punched her in the heart.

That changed when the troll attacked. Hermione had friends! Real friends - even Ron was willing to admit that they were friends after that.  
He annoyed her, but she didn't mind it so much. She still liked him, liked his company - found the occasional joke of his funny - and even worried about him when he sacrificed himself in the game of wizard's chess.  
He was brave, she decided. Brave, loyal, kind and a lot smarter than he let on. No, he wasn't at her level of academic intellect, but he was still a smart boy. She panicked and faltered - he came up with solutions, and he knew how to play the game. Hermione had never even picked up a book on wizard's chess.

_________________________________

So, a few days after her 16th birthday, Hermione smiled excitedly when she saw her fully formed tattoo. It didn't matter that it had taken so long to form - for she knew now that it had taken her that long to accept the truth about it.  
She knew it was Ron the moment she looked down at it. A small laugh bubbled up and out of her chest, as she thought about all the times they'd bickered and fight over something so trivial... And yet, they were still friends - best friends. There was no denying that.   
Besides, she'd seen the book on his wrist when he was 13, and part of her had known immediately (hoped even) that it meant her.

And now she had undeniable proof that Ron was meant to be with her.  
A small, pink-ish, brain on her right hip.


	3. Conversations

"Ron, can I talk to you about something?"  
Her voice shook slightly - she seemed nervous, fiddling with the edge of her shirt. This worried Ron. Was something wrong? She only ever got this way when she was upset or scared - and most things that scared Hermione were upsetting.

And the fact that this was the first time she'd spoken to him since everything that had happened, with him walking out on them like the jealous prick he was... Well that made him really concerned that something really had to be up.

Nodding and slowly getting to his feet, Ron followed her out of Shell Cottage and down to the beach that stretched out before the house. She was hugging herself and appeared to be psyching herself up for something. He frowned softly and placed a had on her shoulder, worry filling his entire body.  
"Hermione... What's wrong?"

What Ron had been expecting was her to start crying - letting herself break again after what Bellatrix had done to her. (Just thinking about it made him angry. He would see that bitch dead if it was the last thing he did.)  
But instead, he found that she was laughing. Softly, at first, and then a little louder as she shook her head, curls bouncing with the movement - blowing about her face in the gentle breeze.

"I didn't ask you out here to give you bad news, Ron. For once it's something good."  
The witch sighed softly, her head turning to face him - eyes resting on his. They were soft and... Vaguely happy. A stark contrast from the glares he'd been receiving from her after he returned.

Before he could even ask her what she was talking about, Hermione interrupted. "I think - no, I know - I'm your soulmate..."

The hand fell heavily from her shoulder, bouncing off of his denim clad leg - bright blue eyes staring down into the deep brown of hers. He was trying to make sense of it all. Yes, he'd been pretty convinced himself that she was meant to be his soulmate - but Ron had always told himself he was just really really hoping she was. He never expected her to also see the signs.

"I... H-How? I mean... Why do you think that?"

A soft, sweet, laugh. Music. Beautiful. "I know your tattoo is a book. And mine is a brain - I think that's a pretty clear indicator that we're meant to be with each other."

A brain. Ron's heart dropped as if he'd just fallen from his broomstick - a sick wave of nerves hit his stomach.  
"Hermione... If yours is a brain, then it's not talking about me." Smiling sadly, he shrugged his shoulders and tried to make it that he wasn't all that bothered.  
"It was a nice thought though. You and me."

___________________________________

A deep sadness and annoyance burst inside of Hermione at his denial - it wasn't even that he was saying he didn't want her as a soulmate (which she had been expecting), but that he couldn't be represented by a brain.  
It hurt to know he still felt that little about himself.

Clenching her hands tightly, she shoved Ron slightly, catching him off guard as he wobbled and gave her a confused look.  
"Ronald Weasley, do you honestly think that? The brain means you! It can't mean anything else - because you're smart, you idiot."

A small smirk found itself in the corner of his mouth, and she wanted to both hit it away and kiss it.  
"How can I be an idiot if I'm smart?"

That earnt him a frustrated smack to the shoulder. "This isn't a joke! We're soulmates, Ron - and I don't want to die in this stupid war without at least telling you that I know."  
It had been in her books - several witches and wizards never got to meet their soulmate for a vast variety of reasons. Living in different countries, lack of ability to travel, not knowing they're magical, death...  
War meant death, and as much as she wanted to believe all three of them would get out of it alive, Hermione was too logical for her own good. Logically speaking, it was unlikely that they'd all survive.

She didn't want any of them to die, but she was (at least she thought) prepared for the possibility of any one of them dying the fight.

An exasperated sigh left her lips and she angrily shook her head, hands flapping in dismissal. Hot tears were filling dark eyes as thoughts of her friends dying and leaving her alone occupied her mind.  
"Forget it - let's just focus on the horcruxes."  
She turned to leave, feeling stupid, rejected, and as if she'd chosen the worst time to confront Ron about this.

And then there were hands grabbing hers to keep her from leaving.

___________________________________

"Hermione, wait! Will you stop for a second a let me talk without getting hit?"  
Joking - he was joking to try and ease the slight tension that had suddenly risen between them.  
Ron didn't want to keep feeling so tense and awkward around her any more.  
"It's just... I've never really been given any reason to believe I'd be represented by a brain of all things - no one's really ever known me as the smart Weasley."

Her mouth opened to say something but he shushed her, not wanting to be interrupted this time. It was necessary for him get this out before he was shut up by his own insecurities.  
"No, let me talk. I'm not saying I don't think I'm your soulmate - hell I've been wanting that for some time now! What I'm saying is that it just seems to good to be true."  
Their eyes were locked - Hermione's wide and studying him, his were soft and gave away how shy he felt admitting this.  
Neither of them seemed to notice that he hadn't let go of her hands.

"I mean, me - represented as a brain, and having you as a soulmate? It's almost like the universe is playing a cruel joke by dangling everything I want in front of me, and it'll be torn away should I actually reach for it...  
I'm not exactly the right kind of guy for you."

Somewhere in the middle of his speech Ron's eyes had drifted to the sand, avoiding Hermione.  
Until one hand was empty and he had Hermione's hand on his shoulder.  
Then his eyes snapped to the hand and then to the gentle smile of the girl in front of him.  
"You're the perfect guy for me, Ron."

That was when Harry came down the beach to see where they'd gotten to, going on about Bill wanting to know what they wanted for dinner.


	4. A Matter Of Importance

Everything was put on hold for the war. Voldemort didn’t care about whether some children found their soulmate or not - that wasn’t important, not when Harry Potter was still alive.  
So the conversation was put on the back burner, neither Ron nor Hermione acknowledging it as they made their plans.  
Find the horcruxes, destroy them, beat Voldemort.  
Except it was never that simple with them - something always went wrong.  
This time, it was Griphook.

Having stolen the sword, they were without a method of destroying the cup, and Voldemort now knew. This meant everything was thrown into fast forward.  
No longer did they have months to prepare, as the search for them had clearly doubled now he knew what they were doing.  
So they had to go to Hogwarts.

They had to fight.

___________________________________

Ron was smarter than people believed. Not many would have been able to learn some basic Parseltongue just because their friend spoke in it in their sleep, and yet there he was - basilisk fangs in hand, horcrux destroyed, and he was finally feeling good about himself.  
He wasn’t a burden, but rather he was helping. Ronald Weasley was useful  
and they might just win this war because of him…

But he wasn’t thinking about that, or even about Hermione and how if they made it out alive he was going to take her out to dinner.  
He was thinking about the house-elves. They were probably terrified.  
“Hang on a moment! We’ve forgotten someone!”

___________________________________

Adrenaline pumped through her veins, and she was ready to go - to fight and win - but Ron was stopping them, slowing it down, and she couldn’t help but be curious.  
Forgotten? Everyone that was alive and willing to fight was already there, weren’t they?  
“Who?”  
“The house-elves, they’ll all be down in the kitchen, won’t they?”

She’d forgotten all about them. So much had happened that they were no longer Hermione’s top priority and she felt like she’d deflated. Of course they were still in the kitchen  
\- if the death eaters hadn’t already gotten to them…  
“You mean we ought to get them fighting?” Came Harry’s voice, earning him a stern glare to the back of his head. About to yell at him for even considering the idea of making those poor creatures fight in a war that had nothing to do with them, Hermione took a step forward, mouth open and-

“No,” Ron broke her fury with one incredulous answer, causing her to falter and stare.  
“I mean we should tell them to get out! We don’t want any more Dobbies, do we? We can’t order them to die for us…”  
A loud clatter interrupted the boy as fangs tumbled from her arms. He cared. He’d listened to everything she’d ever said and he actually cared.  
Ignoring the fact that they were in the middle of a war, and the deafening heartbeat in her ears, Hermione ran. She ran and practically threw herself at Ron.

The kiss was long overdue, she felt.

___________________________________

There was barely a second for Ron to comprehend why Hermione had dropped the fangs before she was planting a kiss on him. Not at all minding, he responded with enthusiasm and pulled her close - lifting her off her feet.  
He now understood everything. It was like a light had switched on while fireworks exploded in his chest - he was no longer that unfortunate boy from Ottery St Catchpole.  
Ron meant something, and he could feel it in they way Hermione kissed him that he was probably the most important person in her world - which was very fortunate, as she was his world.

Weak words tried to get past the cheering in his head, but they were too quiet and too inconsequential for him to give a damn.  
“OI! There’s a war going on here!”  
That was enough to make the pair split, Hermione blushing furiously but refusing to let go, while Ron simply grinned at his best friend.  
“I know, mate. So it’s now or never isn’t it?”  
That earnt him an eye roll from Harry, and a light smack on the shoulder from Hermione.  
Laughing for the first time in a long time, he pressed a quick kiss to her lips before peeling himself away to collect the fangs that were now scattered along the floor.  
Dimly aware of Harry speaking, he watched Hermione fuss with her curls for a moment before helping him gather the fangs - she flashed him a shy smile, though her eyes sparkled with a glimmer of hope, and Ron knew he’d never tire of those eyes.

Had they not been loaded with deadly weapons, Ron would have taken hold of one of her hands when they stood - craving a closeness they’d never allowed themselves to have for so many years. Deciding he could wait until they were safe, he followed Harry to the door and nudged him in the shoulder.  
“Come on, let’s go kill Voldemort!”


End file.
